


Godfather

by FanficAllergy



Series: The Parts We Play [7]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Babies, Gen, Light Angst, Side Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 07:43:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5366963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanficAllergy/pseuds/FanficAllergy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gale meets his daughter for the first time (side story to Spectator).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Godfather

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

** **

**oOo**

 

 **Title:** Godfather  
**Theme:** 44: Beautiful  
**Words:** 2034  
**Summary:** Gale meets his daughter for the first time.  
**Notes:** This is a side story to the _Parts We Play_ Universe.  It takes place after the events in both  Spectator and Forgotten.  

 

**oOo**

Draining the last of my coffee, I lean back in my chair and sigh.  It’s going to be another long day amidst a string of long days. Seated at my kitchen table, a book on the history of Panem sitting open unattended in front of me, I glance out the window.  It’s early.  Really early.  The sun’s not even risen yet.  By all rights, I should be sleeping like my mother and siblings.  But I find it almost impossible to get a full night’s sleep.  

 

 

For the last two weeks, the only solid slumber I’ve managed has been with the aid of my mother’s sleep syrup.  She doesn’t ask me why when I come to her at night, my late night cup of tea at the ready.  She knows the reason.

 

 

Katniss has given birth.

 

 

It was impossible to miss when she went into labor.  A Capitol hovercraft descended in the field near the Victor’s Village.  The timing was just too coincidental.  I knew Katniss had to be reaching the end of her pregnancy.  Considering the Capitol’s interest in my daughter’s birth, I’m unsurprised they’d send someone to attend the momentous event.  It wasn’t until a few days later that I found out it wasn’t some politician or Capitol elite who’d arrived, but a team of doctors.  

 

 

That’s really all I know; Katniss and the baby are alive.  It would have been national news if one of the ‘Star-Crossed Lovers of District Twelve’ or the ‘fruit of their love’ had perished in the birth.  But I’m unable to stop myself from worrying.  Why was a team of doctors sent?  Did something go wrong? Are Katniss and the baby alright?

 

 

What little news we’ve gotten has been from official news sources or come secondhand through Haymitch Abernathy.  Peeta Mellark hired her about a week after they came back to take care of both his and Katniss’s house, as well as the older Victor’s.  Unfortunately, as soon as the Capitol arrived, they kicked out all non-family members, and it’s not like my mother could announce that Katniss was giving birth to my mother’s first grandchild.

 

 

About a week ago, President Snow announced the winning name chosen by the Capitol.  Whoever thought Pulcheria was a good name needs to be taken out into the woods and shot.  Repeatedly.  The name sounds like some kind of disease, and I know Katniss will hate it.  I hate it.  I’m not sure just what Katniss will actually decide to call her.  We never really got a chance to talk about baby names before she was taken away and it hasn’t been safe to do so since she’s returned to District Twelve.

 

 

I glance down at my book at the same page I’ve been trying to read for over an hour.  My boss, Mayor Undersee, has been trying to bring me up to speed on all of the things a district politician needs to know.  I never thought I’d feel sorry for a merchant, but the sheer amount of information Orville has to assimilate is staggering.  I don’t know how I’m going to learn it all.  I’m glad I don’t have Orville’s job.  I’d be lost.

 

 

I get up from the table and wander over to the stove to pour myself a cup another of coffee.  The beans were a gift from one of my coworkers for my nineteenth birthday back in August.  I would never have purchased the luxury myself, but I’ve found I’ve developed an addiction to the aromatic, bitter brew.  Madge likes to tease me that I’m becoming merchant, just like her, and in this instance, I have to agree.

 

 

As I’m turning to sit back down, there’s a knock at my door.

 

 

I raise my eyebrows.  It’s too early for my mother’s laundry clients and there aren’t very many people who’d brave breaking curfew to visit me.  Setting my cup down, I open the door, expecting to see a Peacekeeper on the other side of the door.

 

 

It’s not.

 

 

Peeta Mellark, one of the two Victors of the 74th Hunger Games, and Katniss’s new husband, stands there, shifting his weight from foot to foot.  In his hands is a large woven basket packed with a thin white cloth draped over the top.

 

 

“What are you doing here?” I ask, the words slipping from my mouth.

 

 

“Can I come in?” he asks, glancing around nervously.

 

 

I nod my head, stepping back to one side.  Whatever drove him all the way out to the Seam, breaking curfew, has to be important.

 

 

“Keep your voice down,” I say.  “My ma and siblings are still sleeping.”

 

 

Mellark nods his head.

 

 

“You never answered my question,” I say, picking up my coffee and taking a sip.  “What brings you out this way so early?”

 

 

“I didn’t want to be seen,” he answers cryptically.

 

 

I raise my eyebrows.  “Why not?”

 

 

“Because I don’t want anybody asking any questions.”

 

 

“What do you mean, Mellark?”

 

 

The blond man takes a deep breath and removes the cloth from the top of the basket.  My breath catches in my throat when I see him lift out a tiny little person with a shock of dark black hair and olive skin.  

 

 

“Is that--”

 

 

“Gale Hawthorne,” he says, holding out the infant, “I want you to meet your daughter.”

 

 

With shaking hands, I set my mug down, wincing as it clatters a little on the wooden surface, and carefully accept the precious bundle.  When she’s in my arms, I study her features hungrily, trying to sear this moment to memory.  My daughter is smaller than I remember Posy being when she was two weeks old.  Her eyes are open, staring at me.  I marvel at the dark blue color, almost the same color as blueberries.

 

 

“Katniss’s mom says that they’re probably gonna change.”

 

 

I tear my eyes away from my daughter to stare at the other man in confusion.  “What?”

 

 

“Her eyes.  Mrs. Everdeen says they’ll probably change.”

 

 

Become grey like mine and Katniss’s.  It makes sense, I suppose.  Staring down at my little girl, I murmur, “I kinda hope not.  She’s beautiful.”

 

 

“That she is.”

 

 

“She looks like Katniss.”

 

 

“I don’t know,” Peeta says with a laugh.  “I haven’t seen her frown yet.”

 

 

I chuckle.  “I hope she never has reason to frown.”

 

 

“I’ll do my best to make sure she doesn’t,” the other man tells me earnestly.

 

 

My eyes meet his.  I can read the promise in them.  He means what he says.  I know he has to claim my daughter as his own, but I can tell he already loves my little girl.

 

 

“I believe you,” I say.

 

 

“I wish it didn’t have to be this way,” he says.  “I’m sorry.”

 

 

“You didn’t do this,” I tell him.  “We both know whose fault this is.”  I’m not stupid enough to place the blame aloud.  As safe as my house might be, there’s no guarantee I’m not being watched.  And I damn well know Peeta is under some level of surveillance.  Captain Miner slipped up early on and mentioned that all of the active Victors’ houses were bugged.  At least I think it was a slip.  With her, I get the impression that she’s always very careful about what she says.  Still, I made sure to let Katniss know and I’m sure she’s told Peeta.  “It isn’t yours.”

 

 

He nods his head.  

 

 

“How long can you stay?” I ask, brushing the fine dusting of hair on my daughter’s head with one finger tip.

 

 

“Maybe an hour,” Peeta answers.  “I’ll need to take her back so Katniss can feed her.”

 

 

“Do you mind taking her for a sec?” I ask, holding my little girl back out to the Victor.  “There’s something I want to go get.”

 

 

Peeta accepts the infant without a word.

 

 

I slip back into the bedroom I share with my two brothers and pull out the wooden box where I keep all of my personal possessions.  Opening it, I take out the stuffed bear I traded for months ago.  Careful not to wake Rory and Vick, I tiptoe back out into the main room.

 

 

Peeta’s cuddling my little girl to his chest, the tip of his left pinkie placed in her mouth.  He looks up as I reenter the room.  “She was getting a little fussy,” he explains, dropping his maimed hand quickly.

 

 

I don’t say anything about Peeta’s missing finger, guessing he’s self-conscious of the loss.  Instead, I ask, “Does she need her diaper changed?”

 

 

He shakes his head.  “Checked that first.  No, like an idiot, I forgot her pacifier at home.”

 

 

“Here,” I say, setting the white angora felt bear down on the table.  “This is for her.”  I hold my arms out to the other man.  “Can I?”

 

 

“Of course.”  He places my daughter in them.

 

 

“So what are you calling her?” I ask.

 

 

There’s that easy, friendly smile again.  The one I saw him use to devastating effect during the Games. “What, you’re not fond of Pulcheria?”

 

 

“I don’t know what the Capitol was thinking.”

 

 

The other man shrugs.  “Who knows?  It’s the Capitol.”

 

 

“No really, what are you calling her?  Pulchie?  Eria?  Cherry?”

 

 

Peeta chuckles.  “Mostly, we’ve been calling her ‘little one’ or ‘baby.’”

 

 

“You’re not gonna be able to get away with that for long.  How do you think Posy ended up with her name?  Legally it’s Josephine, but Vick started calling her Posy and it’s stuck.”

 

 

The man shifts like he’s nervous.  “Katniss and I were talking on one of our walks.  We wanted to know if you wanted to name her.”

 

 

“Really?”

 

 

“Yeah, really.”

 

 

“That doesn’t sound like Katniss,” I tell him bluntly.

 

 

The man shrugs.  “I admit, it was my idea, but Katniss agreed with it.” He gives me a determined look.  “Neither of us think any of this is fair and we figured you should get something, even if it’s just what to call her.  We’ll have to introduce her as Pulcheria in public, but we don’t have to call her that in private.”

 

 

I admit I’m stunned.  I know before the Capitol came, Katniss had mentioned that she wanted me to be a part of our child’s life.  I didn’t realize it was still true.  I can’t be as public of a fixture as I would like.  But this is something.  

 

 

“Also,” Peeta says, breaking into my reverie, “we’d like to make you one of her godparents.  That way, in case something happens to us, we’ll know she’ll be taken care of.”

 

 

“Who’s the godmother?” I ask, dumbly.  I’m unable to give voice to all of the emotions I’m feeling.  

 

 

“Madge,” Peeta answers, ignoring the dumbstruck expression I’m sure is stamped on my features.  “Katniss hasn’t asked her yet, but can you think of anybody safer than the Mayor’s daughter?”

 

 

I shake my head.  

 

 

“And it makes sense, considering you’re Mr. Youngest Mayor’s Assistant, for us to ask you, especially considering how close you and Katniss were.  No one will think anything of it.”

 

 

“Thank you,” I say, the words feeling inadequate.  It’s more than I expected, and it gives me a reason to actually visit their house.  My mother has already got an excuse, now I have one.

 

 

“So have you thought of a name?”

 

 

I have.  

 

 

It’s a name that I’ve always loved, a name that’s had meaning for me.  Even before I met Katniss, I’ve always liked the name.  But after I met my former hunter partner, the name took on a deeper, more special meaning.   

 

 

I doubt Katniss knows this, but one time I followed her and Prim around as they made their way through the woods.  The two stopped along the edge of a stream to rest and eat a little something.  While they were sitting there, Prim asked Katniss to sing to her.  Katniss obliged, lightly singing the Valley Song.  I was entranced.  I never knew Katniss had a beautiful singing voice.  And as she sung, she stroked her stomach gently.  It was then that I knew if we had a girl, what I wanted to name her.

 

 

I run my hand along my daughter’s cheek, thinking back to that day.

 

 

“Willow,” I answer.  “Her name’s Willow.”

 

**oOo**

**Author's Note:**

> AN:  
> Written: 8/9/15  
> Revised: 8/10/15  
> Betaread by: amelinazenitram & RoseFyre
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you to RoseFyre for letting me use her fingers. 
> 
>  
> 
> Trufax Posy is a diminutive for Josephine. I did not pull that out of my ass, I swear. 
> 
>  
> 
> Written for Fandom4LLS.


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